Scelgono
by hotblackcoffee
Summary: FINISHED! COMPLETE!
1. Visitors

Clarice Starling was exhausted. She was thankful that it was Friday and she was on her way home. She was looking forward to a weekend of rest - if she wanted to sleep until three in the afternoon, she'd do it. She didn't care. After all, Ardelia was out of town for a few weeks visiting relatives, so she'd have the place all to herself. Starling reminded herself that she needed to keep her eyes on the road and switched on the radio just in time to hear the weather forecast. Heavy showers and thunderstorms, it said.  
  
It was just beginning to mist as she pulled up into her driveway.   
  
Oh great.  
  
She turned off the ignition and tossed her keys into her open purse. She hurried for the door, trying desperately not to get soaked on the way.   
  
Well, at least I can change into some dry clothes inside.  
  
She unlocked the door and slammed it behind her. She sighed. Then, mid-breath, she stopped. What was that sound? Music...she paused. And then, instinctively, Starling drew the .45 that lay on her hip. She grasped it tightly with both hands and discarded her purse in a chair. She silently walked down the hall, trying to find the source of the music. Standing just outside the door to her bedroom, she took a deep breath. She swung around into the room screaming, "Freeze!"  
  
What she saw shocked her. There on her bed lay a complete outfit - from the golden high-heeled shoes to the diamond and ruby earrings. The dress was made of golden-colored silk. Clarice blinked. Then something else caught her eye. Something that made her very, very uncomfortable. Two glasses of wine and a dozen red roses sat on her small bedside table. She backed away very slowly, taking a deep breath.   
  
"No…"she whispered as she shook her head, "no."  
  
Suddenly, she felt someone behind her. Clarice whirled around, holding her .45 at chest level. Lecter was dressed in dark trousers and a maroon shirt that Clarice thought looked absolutely wonderful on him.  
  
What is wrong with you, Clarice? This is a sadistic serial killer, not your boyfriend. You should be wondering when he's going to kill you, not thinking about how wonderful he looks in that shirt!   
  
While trying to pry that thought from her mind, he spoke.  
  
"Do you like the dress, Clarice?" It was more a statement than a question. He knew that she would be absolutely taken with it. And how wonderful it would look on her, the gold silk a perfect compliment to her eyes.  
  
"I...I love it." She smiled uncomfortably.  
  
"Good. I knew you would." He smiled in return. "Dinner in an hour. Is that alright?"  
  
For a moment, she didn't know what to say. "Oh...um...of course." He glanced at the dress and back at her. He stepped past her to retrieve one of the glasses of wine on the table.   
  
"I'll let you get dressed now," he said. She watched him until he left the room and closed the door behind himself. Clarice warily approached the dress, as though it was some sort of foreign object. She sighed.   
  
After taking nearly a half an hour to dress herself, she stopped in front of her bedroom mirror. This was crazy. What was she supposed to do? Have a happy, pleasant meal with Hannibal 'the cannibal'? Yes, and that was exactly what she would do. After checking to see that everything was in its proper place, she opened the door and walked into the living room. Lecter was waiting on her, surprised that it had taken her this long to get dressed. Clarice was not one to primp. As he saw her, he was taken by her beauty. His maroon eyes seemed to devour her.   
  
"Hungry?"  
  
"Yes, very," she replied.  
  
"I do hate to be a rude host, Clarice, but I'm going to have to go check on the dessert and see that it doesn't burn." She watched him leave the room and head toward the kitchen. She sank into her favorite chair and listened to the rain. The heavy, pouring rain. She was so engrossed in listening to it that she almost didn't catch the doorbell. As she approached the door, she could see the silhouette of a man.   
  
What in the world? Who in their right mind would be out in this mess?  
  
She unlocked the door. Clarice felt the wind and shivered. She then looked up to see who could possibly be at her door in this storm. What she saw made her jaw drop and her breath stop in her throat. Jack Crawford stood in front of her, soaking wet and holding a bottle of expensive wine and roses. Her first instinct would have been to welcome him in to her home and out of the rain immediately, but she suddenly remembered who was in the kitchen fixing dessert for her. Crawford was apparently surprised to see her dressed the way she was, she thought, noting his eyes moving over her.  
  
I can't just let him stand there in the rain like that; it would seem even stranger than having him find Lecter here.  
  
She assumed that Lecter would know Crawford was in the house and keep himself hidden…or whatever he felt was best.   
  
"Mr. Crawford, um, please come in." He took her invitation and stepped inside.   
  
"You look wonderful," he said as he hung up his raincoat. "What's the occasion?"  
  
"Oh," she replied, trying to sound innocent, "I was just trying this on, and…you came to the door. Why are you out in this mess, anyway, Mr. Crawford?"  
  
"Jack," he corrected. Noticing the blank stare on her face, he explained, "Call me Jack." She nodded slowly. "And these," he said, presenting her with the roses, "are for you." Clarice didn't know what to do.   
  
Say thank you and sound polite, like you have no cares whatsoever.  
  
"Thank you, Mis-Jack. They're beautiful. Now, why are you out in this mess? You need to be at home." He sat the bottle of wine on a table by the sofa.  
  
"Well, Clarice…I - you're really going to think this sounds stupid, but…"  
  
"But what, Jack?" she inquired.  
  
"Clarice, ever since Bella died, you've been, well, you've been the only one…there." She knew what he was getting at, and she didn't like it at all. He looked at the floor, clearly not wanting to make eye contact with her.   
  
Spit it out, Crawford. I don't have all night, like you seem to think.  
  
"I wanted to know if…you would consider seeing me." He stared at her, not breathing. He began to wonder if she knew what he meant. Of course she knew what he meant. She hesitated, not knowing what to say.  
  
Come on doctor, why don't you ever show up when I need you…?  
  
"I'm going to go and get some glasses for the wine. I'll be right back." He smiled at her, watching her leave the room. He planned what he should say next. Clarice walked into the kitchen and headed toward the cabinet where she kept her wine glasses. As she took two from the shelf, Lecter stepped behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Dinner's almost ready." She turned around to face him and glanced at the living room, where Jack Crawford sat, contemplating his situation.   
  
"Ah. I see now why you are so upset. You're worried about Jack finding me. Why, Clarice?" She was silent. "Don't you worry your lovely head over that. I'll take care of him," Lecter said, his eyes glittering. Clarice began to shake her head.  
  
"No," she said in a whisper. "Please, no." His only reply was a smile. Clarice took the two glasses back into the living room with her. Crawford was in the same position she'd left him in. He looked uncomfortable.   
  
He should be. He's about to be killed.  
  
"You okay?" she asked, trying to sound very cheery. He made an attempt at a half-smile. "Good." She handed him a glass and filled it. Then, she saw something that stopped her breath in her throat. Lecter appeared in the kitchen doorway. For a moment, everything was silent and all she could hear was the rain pounding on the roof. "No," she mouthed.  
  
"What?" Jack asked her.  
  
"Hello there, Jack. Haven't seen you in a while. How are you, hm?" The voice shocked him.  
  
"What's going on here? What's he doing here?" Crawford looked up at Clarice. She was pale, almost completely white. His eyes widened as she fainted. 


	2. Tears

When Clarice awakened, she was surprised to find herself so disoriented. She blinked several times and sat up.   
  
Where am I?  
  
She tried desperately to clear her head, but with no success. The last thing she remembered was Crawford . . . and Lecter--oh no . . . no, no, no. This couldn't be happening. And yet it was. Clarice was afraid to get up and investigate. In the state she was in, it would be more like wandering aimlessly. For some reason, this struck her as humorous, and she began to laugh. Not a deep laugh, but a girlish giggle. Now she began to recognize this room. It was her room. She was wearing the same dress. She guessed that not much time had passed since she'd fainted. Clarice held her breath as the doorknob turned.   
  
Oh no.   
  
She desperately wanted to disappear, but knowing that this was not possible, she sat up straight and took in a deep breath. A chill ran down her spine as the door slowly opened. It was Lecter, wearing the same suit he'd been wearing a while ago. She wasn't quite sure how long she'd been out, but now she was sure that it hadn't been long since she'd passed out.   
  
"Clarice, are you feeling well?" Always the gentleman, Dr. Lecter kept his distance.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered weakly.  
  
"You certainly don't sound fine." At this, she became agitated. Who was he to tell her how she should feel. He was not her; therefore he could not know if she was in pain or not.  
  
"Well, I am." She hoped against hope that her tone did not reflect her thoughts. If it did, he paid no attention. A small smile crossed his lips. She noticed that it was still raining out. It was still dark as well.   
  
"I'm very glad to hear this. I had hoped you would be alright. You were out for quite some time. I was a bit worried that you'd be disoriented." She decided not to tell him that his worries were not in vain. This he knew. He knew her much too well to think that she, or anyone, for that matter, could wake up and know exactly where she was and what had happened. It was at this moment she remembered Crawford. Her eyes widened and fell to the floor, as though she were in deep thought.   
  
"I'll assure you that Jack is alright." Her eyes searched his, wondering if this had a hidden meaning. "In that I mean that he is alive and well." Lecter smiled. It was not a stifled smile, but a large grin. Clarice decided to ignore it and press on with her inquiry.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"Downstairs. He's been waiting on the pleasure of your company for about an hour now. I'm sure he's quite anxious." Clarice wondered what Lecter had done to restrain Crawford. She sincerely hoped that it was nothing . . . well . . . completely humiliating. Lecter had a habit of doing this to people; especially ones that he didn't particularly like. She could only imagine what had been done to Jack. Lecter took a breath. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm. Clarice stood up and tried to steady herself. No luck there. Lecter was right on cue. "You know, Clarice, I think the stairs would be a bit much for you. I'd never forgive myself for you being injured when it could have been prevented." Without so much as another word, she found herself in his arms.   
  
As Lecter carried Clarice down the stairs, she began to wonder what she might find in her living room. She then wondered if she even wanted to know. She took in a sharp breath as she beheld the sight that lay before her eyes. Jack Crawford, his suit jacket removed, was handcuffed and tied to a kitchen chair. He hung his head dejectedly, and though Clarice could not see his face, knew that he must look miserable. He was mumbling something, and she strained to make it out. "This is all my fault . . . I never shoulda sent her down there in the first place . . . I can't believe I've done this to her." In between words came choked sobs. Clarice began to wonder what Lecter had told Crawford while she was up in bed, passed out. She glanced at Lecter. He seemed quite amused by the whole situation.  
  
That is so like him.  
  
Lecter gently helped her to her feet, holding her by the waist until she seemed stable enough to stand on her own. For this she was grateful, as she would have hated to collapse right then and there. "Jack?" Lecter sounded extremely calm. "You've got a visitor." Though Clarice wasn't looking at Lecter's face, she could hear a smile in his voice. Crawford jerked around to see if it was possible. Could Clarice still be alive? Why hadn't Lecter killed her yet? She came around to the front of the chair, facing him. Tears filled her eyes, though she wasn't sure why. She wasn't sad, nor was she afraid. Not for herself, anyway. She was deathly afraid for Crawford. She knew that most likely, he wouldn't leave this house alive. Not if Lecter had anything to do with it.   
  
What am I supposed to do?   
  
Crawford looked into her eyes, held her gaze. She made no move to look away. This surprised her. Clarice could see that he'd been crying hard.   
  
Was he that worried about me? Or was he worried that he was going to be tomorrow's dinner?   
  
"Clarice." He spoke softly, which made the tears sting her eyes even more. She bit her lip. Clarice Starling would not allow tears to flow freely from her eyes. She would not cry. She couldn't cry. Not now. Now Clarice felt that she had to be brave for both Crawford and herself.   
  
"Please remove Mr. Crawford's restraints." Lecter made no sound. Clarice took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself.   
  
"Now, why would I want to do a thing like that?" Clarice tried her hardes to think of a logical, intelligent reply to his inquiry.   
  
"Because I asked politely..."   
  
Oh gosh. What kind of stupid answer was that?  
  
Lecter's eyebrows arched in approval. "Seems reasonable enough. But only if Mr. Crawford promises not to do anything drastic." Lecter drew the last word out for all it was worth. Both Clarice and Crawford knew what he meant by 'drastic', and Crawford knew he'd never make it out alive if he tried. 


	3. Blood

Thanks so much to all of your kind reviews! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, haha. It means a lot to know that your work is appreciated by others. You guys are great! :) c.   
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"But first, I'd like to clear up a little misunderstanding for you, Jack." Neither Crawford or Clarice spoke. "As you know, there was a bit of a controversy about exactly how events transpired that fateful evening at the . . . late . . . Paul Krendler's lake house. And while there were so very many accounts published, I regret to say that not a single one was accurate. Perhaps you'll allow me to take this occasion to, shall we say, set the record straight?" It was not much of a question, per se, but a statement of what was to come. Crawford refrained from allowing a sigh of relief to exit his body. He then wondered what would happen if he refused to listen. Swallowing hard, he decided he did not want to know.   
  
"Now, Jack, I'm sure you've heard of our pleasant dinner with Mr. Krendler just before his unlikely demise, as well as what it consisted of." Lecter was right, Crawford had read it in the papers. "But what you may not know is what I shared with my dear Clarice as I departed." It made Crawford's blood boil to hear Lecter refer to her as 'my dear Clarice'. He couldn't stand to hear it. It simply made the pain even more unbearable. "Perhaps you'll allow me to demonstrate."   
  
Clarice's pulse rose. She tried very hard to take a deep breath and calm herself, but found it near impossible with Lecter there. An omnious presence filled the room. Clarice now found it difficult to breathe. She knew what was coming, and though she'd dreamed of it, she wasn't sure that she was ready for it again.   
  
NO. Not again. This cannot be happening. Not again.  
  
Crawford was intrigued, and though he couldn't help but think that this would be something horrible, he couldn't turn away. He watched Lecter slowly and gracefully approach Clarice. Lecter placed his hands on her waist. "Clarice, you're trembling."   
  
Wow. What a newsflash.  
  
"You're not . . . nervous, are you?" He grinned. So what if she was? If she voiced her opinion, would he stop? "What do you say, for old time's sake?" How could he make jokes at a time like this? His humor showed up at what she considered very inappropiate times.   
  
"Do I have a choice?" she whispered.   
  
"Of course, my dear." With that, he pinned her arms to the wall.   
  
Oh gosh. Here it comes.  
  
"Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me, 'Stop, if you loved me, you'd stop'?"  
  
He leaned in, as though preparing to bite her. A small cry came from Crawford's throat. This pleased Lecter, but he continued. He pulled away. Tears filled Clarice's eyes. "Yes," she whispered.  
  
Lecter looked at her quizzically. "Yes," she said between choked sobs, "I would. I'd say it . . . ." Lecter, for once, was truly surprised.   
  
"Well-"  
  
"I'd say it forever if I had to," she interrupted. Tears streamed wildy down her cheeks. It seemed as though Crawford's presence was absent from the room. Neither Clarice or Lecter missed it. "I swear I would. I'm so sorry for what I said then and I-it's different now, it really is. You understand me, and I know that now. I mean . . . ."  
  
"I think I know what you mean, my dear." His eyes were soft and compassionate. Inside, he was ecstatic. He had finally gotten through to her. He loved her and had tried forever to show her. The one he loved had finally admitted her love for him. He could barely contain his joyful feelings. He smiled kindly at her.  
  
"But . . . I could never . . . ." Lecter arched his eyebrows. He hated second thoughts. Just go with your instincts, he always thought. Why couldn't more people feel this way? Now, she seemed to be having an internal conflict. She looked very distressed.  
  
"What is it, my dear? You know how I do hate to be kept waiting." Her breaths were quick and short, as though she'd just finished several miles on the track. Getting a bit impatient, he asked, "What is it that you could never do, dear Clarice?" His eyes and tone softened simultaneously. "You could never come with me, no matter how much your heart desires it?" She looked up at him. He knew at once that he was correct.   
  
"Yes. I couldn't ever...." By this time, Crawford was very close to throwing up. "Even if I wanted to. And I do want to." Sobs broke her voice. "I want to more than anything. I've finally realized that you care about me like no one else does. That you love me." Crawford looked up.   
  
"What?!" He exclaimed. "Clarice, I more than 'care for' you. I don't know how you can say that, especially to HIM! Clarice, he's a serial killer! You were assigned to track him down and capture him; to put him back in that vacant cell! I love you, Clarice! I do! I always have! How could you say that no one else has...? How could you say that? How, Clarice? How...?" His voice dissolved into sobs, just as Clarice's had done earlier.   
  
"Jack, may I suggest a psychiatrist? I hear they're quite helpful with situations such as yours." He smiled. Crawford glared at him.   
  
"You! This is all your fault!" he screamed. "You got inside her head, poisoned her thoughts!" Clarice looked at Crawford kindly. She moved toward him.   
  
"Jack, you've been wonderful to me. You truly have. You were there for me, always backing me up with Krendler and his lies. No one else would have done that for me, and I appreciate it. I really do, whether you believe that or not."  
  
"Well, now that we've covered the final farewells, I believe, Jack, that it is time for you to take one last look at your precious Clarice."   
  
Final farewells? Oh no. No freaking way.   
  
Lecter approached Crawford, his hand in his breast pocket. Clarice knew exactly what was to come and backed away. She noticed that she'd stopped crying. After a flash of silver, blood almost magically appeared on Crawford's throat. Clarice gasped and turned her back on the gruesome scene.   
  
Lecter turned to Clarice, placing his hands on her waist to steady her and prevent her from turning away. Blood garnished his mouth as he leaned in closer to her. Her pulse hastened and she found herself in yet another strange scenario. He kissed her with a fire like never before. Clarice began to tremble. Lecter sensed her nervousness and pulled away. "I'll send for you, my dear." With that, he freed Crawford and carried him out the door. 


	4. Freedom

Well..here it is. Chapter four in this really lame story. Once again, thanks tons for the nice reviews! Enjoy! c.  
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Several days had passed since Clarice's fateful encounter with Dr. Lecter. She wondered what had happened to Crawford. She knew he was dead, but what had Lecter done with Crawford?  
  
Well, Starling, he's a cannibal. What do you THINK he did?  
  
The very thought of Lecter actually eating Jack Crawford was enough to make her sick. She really did love Crawford. He'd been so good to her, and after all she'd been through, she was grateful. Clarice decided not to think about that anymore. She hadn't slept well at all the past few nights. She'd drift off and wake several minutes later with a start, breathing heavily. She needed closure. Every walk to the mailbox was a trip through hell for her. As she'd reach for the mail, her hands would tremble. But every time, she'd be disappointed at what she found. No letter. No phone call. No nothing. Honestly, sometimes she hated that man.   
  
She had taken off work for a week, realizing that she desperately needed some time off. She hadn't done much, just straightened up her home. It was today that Clarice decided she needed to take a shopping trip. After all, how many times did she treat herself to something nice? She headed to her bedroom to get dressed. Every time Clarice climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she couldn't help but remember that night. She picked up the remote and flicked on the small TV that sat on a table in the corner of her room.   
  
Hm. Local news. Wonder what's so interesting....  
  
She usually watched the news with little interest, only paying attention to things that were interesting to her. A news anchor was talking rapidly about something, and Clarice strained to hear from her adjoining bathroom "...Jack Crawford was foud at his home three nights ago in critical condition." Clarice walked out of the bathroom and back into her bedroom to hear the TV better. "Authorities are not releasing the details of Mr. Crawford's injuries at this point, but we will keep you updated as they become available." The reporter went on to tell what hospitial Crawford was at, and so on. Clarice flicked off the TV.  
  
Gosh, I hope he makes it.   
  
After Clarice had dressed, she walked to her dresser to pick some jewelry to complete her outfit. She'd just recently began wearing makeup again and she couldn't explain exactly why, though she had a good idea. She opened her jewelry box and sifted through all of the cheap thing she owned. Not one real stone. As she reached the bottom, she found a small box. Memories came flooding back to her as she opened it. The diamond and ruby earrings Lecter had given her were inside. Clarice knew that these would complete her outfit and put them on. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn't cry. She smiled to herself as she scolded, "Don't make your eye makeup run."   
  
Clarice plucked her purse from the table by her door, and after examining herself in the mirror one last time, she hurried down the stairs. She turned off the lights and walked out the door. "What a nice day," she said to herself. And it was. The sun was shining brightly in the morning sky. For a moment, it reminded Clarice of her father. How she used to be so happy on sunny days, because it meant that she and Daddy would go and do something outside.   
  
Clarice pulled her keys from her purse and got into her car, ready for a full day of shopping. As she pulled out of her driveway, she didn't notice the black luxury car that exited a neighboring driveway. 


	5. Paranoia

Okedokey...here comes Chapter 5. I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get this whole thing together, but all good things to those who wait. Once again, thanks to the kind people who reviewed. I know I say that every chapter, but I really mean it. It's nice to know that someone read your writing and thought positively about it. any suggestions, questions, or comments are welcomed: clarice459@hotmail.com :) c. On with the show!  
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As she drove, Clarice found herself much more relaxed than usual. She couldn't really explain it; she just felt at peace with everything. She decided that listening to the radio could have negative effects, so she drove without music. Clarice slightly cracked her window and listened to the world around her. Sounds of the air being sliced as she plowed through it, sounds of trees rustling, sounds of nature. She enjoyed nature very much. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't.   
  
Clarice was about half way to the local shopping mall when she noticed it. A very nice black car had been following her since . . . since she left home. This was odd. At first, she would have dismissed it as simply a neighbor having the same destinaion. But none of her neighbors had cars like this. Something else she noticed as a little strange was that the car followed very subtly. It stayed a safe distance behind, with several cars between.   
  
Clarice placed her hand on her hip, to reassure herself that her protection was there. Not that she always relied on a gun, mind you. It simply made her feel a bit safer that it was there, should she need it. She was very strong physically and could defend herself to nearly anyone.   
  
She checked her rear-view mirror every few seconds to see where this strange car was. She was pleased to see that it had taken the previous exit. Clarice decided not to worry about this any more today. She didn't notice the black luxury car gliding down the entrance ramp to the interstate, either.   
  
As Clarice arrived at the mall, she found it was easy to locate a parking place. It was a weekday and most people were at work. The car that had followed her was no where in sight and she completely forgot about it. She climbed out of her car, locking the doors. You could never be too safe. She didn't have a long distance to walk to the mall because of her parking place. A casually dressed man followed her in.   
  
Clarice truly made a day of shopping. But HE plagued her thoughts all day. Every outfit or pair of shoes she'd come across, her first thought would be, "I wonder what he'd think of this...." She didn't even catch herself doing it. After the first hour or so, she'd made so many purchases that her arms were full. She decided to go and put them in her car, and then go for one more round, maybe get some ice cream. That thought pleased her. She hardly ever bought ice cream anymore. She decided that it was a definate 'yes'.   
  
She headed for the mall exit where she'd parked. It was still a beautiful day - the sun was shining, it was just the right temperature, and not a cloud in sight. As she placed the last of her purchases in the trunk, she checked her cell phone to see if she'd missed any calls. Cell phones don't work very well in the mall. She'd found that one out the hard way. Clarice had missed a call from Pearsall while on a shopping trip with Ardelia once. Never again would she do that. No new calls. She sighed. She didn't get many of those anymore. She headed back in to the mall for several more hours of shopping.   
  
She checked her watch. 8:00. She decided that it was time to get home. She gathered all of her purchases and her half-eaten ice cream and exited the mall. Clarice placed some of her items in the trunk, but after realizing that all of them wouldn't fit, she opened the back door of her car. She put the rest of them in the back seat. She, once again, decided that she needed to check her cell phone. Missed calls were bad enough, but missed calls from superiors? 'Bad' is not the correct word. As darkness fell, she was thankful for the glowing display radiating from her phone. At least she could see what she was doing.  
  
As she toyed with her phone, an arm slipped around her waist. She tried to scream, but a hand cupped over her mouth prevented it. She flailed her arms, cell phone in one hand, ice cream in the other. Clarice tried to get away, but this man was strong. Stronger than nearly anyone she'd come up against. A sudden realization came over her. She turned to face Hannibal Lecter; his once clean, white shirt covered with chocolate ice cream. 


	6. Decisions

I have no clue where I'm going with this story. I wrote chapter five at seven A.M. That's what happens when I try to write in the morning. So I didn't really focus on the chocolate ice cream stain - and do not ask me where that came from. I have no idea. So sue me. Anyway, on with the story... c.  
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Clarice's hand flew to her mouth. She opened her mouth in attempt to say something, but no words came out. Girlish giggles, however, did. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle the giggles. She knew Lecter would not be quite so amused. Clarice gasped a breath and attempted to talk. "Oh my gosh . . . I am so . . . ." She broke off once again in laughter.   
  
"Well, my dear, I'm glad you find this so amusing; as I most certainly do not. Soiled clothing is not in any way humorous to me."  
  
"I know." She tried hard not to smile. "But it really IS your fault. You snuck up on me. You could have given me a little warning before just -"  
  
"Before just doing this?" His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her close. "Tell me, Clarice, are you afraid of me? Does our closeness frighten you?" She shivered at the tone of his voice. Honestly, sometimes he could be so . . . scary.  
  
"No. But the fact that you've got ice cream all over your shirt doesn't really make it all that pleasant, either." She looked down at her shirt, now stained with ice cream as well. He smiled.  
  
"Please forgive me."  
  
"Oh please. You actually think I care about the way I look?" She sincerely hoped that he didn't notice the earrings or makeup right now.  
  
"Well, my dear, you certainly wouldn't have worn these earrings if you really felt that way." He reached up and gently touched one of the rubies. "I remember making this purchase for you, Clarice. How I couldn't wait for you to see them, to try them on. Perhaps you feel guilty about how much I spent on you. Perhaps that's why you're wearing them. Or perhaps you genuinely like them if you're wearing them without my influence."   
  
"Who says I'm without your influence?" She snapped. She immediately regretted saying that. How could she be so stupid? He didn't need to know that he was constantly on her mind. If he didn't already, that is.  
  
"Hm. So I am frequently in your thoughts. How very interesting." Clarice looked to his face, trying desperately to find some sort of emotion. She was disappointed to find that his eyes remained passive. She noticed that darkness had fallen.   
  
Oh great. Now I'm standing in the dark with a madman. A madman who loves--STOP THAT!  
  
"Well, Doctor, you did say that you'd send for me. I couldn't help but think about that."  
  
"Does that mean that you've come to a decision, Clarice?" His voice was soft and undemanding. A faraway look came over her face. She sighed. "Clarice?" he prompted gently. Now tears filled her eyes. For a moment, she thought she detected a sad look in his eyes. Tears spilled out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks. "Now, Clarice, don't cry." He gently wiped the tears from her face. "And don't be afraid to tell me the truth. Are you going to come with me?" She sighed heavily. "Ah." He somehow knew that this was her answer. "I see." Her eyes widened at that.   
  
"No, you don't, because I want to come with you . . . if the invitation still holds . . . and if you were serious . . . ."  
  
"My dear, why would I lie to you?" She shook her head.  
  
"I don't-I don't know. You wouldn't, I don't guess."  
  
"No. I would not. Nor would I ever hurt you, Clarice." She sighed. Boy, was that a first. It seemed like everyone was out to get her, out to destroy her.   
  
"I know you wouldn't. That's why I trust you and what you say." Lecter smiled. "And I know that you . . . ." Her voice trailed off. She decided that she didn't need to put words in his mouth. Not yet, at least. She'd done it once before, when Lecter and Crawford had that little 'incident', as she referred to it. But she was a little out of it then. She had an excuse then. Not now.  
  
"Love you? Why, yes. I should think that it was painfully obvious." He smiled. Not a frightening smile, but one of total love and understanding. "Now, my dear, the question is, do you love me?" His forewardness surprised her for a moment. She debated answers in her head. A simple 'yes' would never do. He'd want to know why. She opened her mouth, and yet, like many times before in this evening, no words came out. Tears filled her eyes once again. She knew that if she answered honestly, there was no going back. She could never undo it. But that was a risk Clarice Starling was prepared to take.  
  
"Yes," she nodded, "I love you." He knew it, but simply wanted to hear the words from her concious mouth. Streetlamps flooded the area with light. This was something Starling had just noticed. They were standing directly in the middle of a circle of light. It was as though they were in their own production of Romeo and Julet. No one else existed in the world for either of them. "I love you," she repeated softly.   
  
"And I love you," his softness matching hers. Lecter leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. Clarice looked up at him.   
  
"Well, what now? I mean, where do we go from here?"  
  
"But Clarice, are you honestly ready to leave? I understand very well that you love me, wish for us to be blissfully settled together, but will you doubt yourself later? Will you toss and turn all during the night, wondering what could have been with your precious FBI?" Lecter felt her muscles tense as he mentioned the FBI. After all that they'd done do her, why would she want to stay? What person in their right mind would stay and take that kind of tourment? He continued, "Would you regret it?" She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion.  
  
"What?" Clarice hadn't heard a word he'd said. What she did know, however, was that she had to make a decison. Fast. She could feel her brain giong in all different directions. "Oh, why couldn't this be easy?" she mumbled. He wasn't really meant to hear it, but he did.  
  
"My dear, life's choices are never easy. That is why one must select the choice that they believe will have the most positive outcome." She sighed and nodded. "You'll have as much time as you need to make your decision. I'd never pressure you into something like this."   
  
"I've made my decision. I know what I want, and I want you." His heart swelled. Finally, after all of these years, he would get the one thing in life that he wished for.   
  
"I must admit that I wanted to hear that answer, Clarice." Once again, he kissed her forehead. "Now, how about we take you home to gather your things?"  
  
"Alright. While we're there, I guess we could . . . clean your shirt." She grinned. By now, the dark stain had dried and set.   
  
"I've got no objections. We'll go in my car." With that, he escorted her across the parking lot to his large black luxury car.  
  
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Okay, well, there's chapter six! I should have chapter seven up by AT LEAST the end of the week, hopefully sooner. Thank you all for being so kind to review my story. It's my first...*giggle* :) 


	7. Farewell

Okay, well, here comes chapter seven. I apologize for the length of time it took me to get it posted, but I've had lots of work to do. Thanks for reading! c.  
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As Lecter drove, they sat in silence. Lecter could understand why she didn't exactly wish for conversation right then, and he respected it. She sighed heavily. It never really occured to her that he seemed to know exactly where he was going, something that would have truly perplexed her alert self. Lecter heard Clarice sniffle a bit. He looked to her and saw tears running down her cheeks. "What is it, Clarice?" he said soothingly.   
  
"I don't know. I've made up my mind and I know I'm going to be happy with the choice I've made, but I just don't know how to feel right now."  
  
"You don't have to feel anything at all, if you do not wish to." A flash. She remembered Crawford saying something like that to her after he'd told her that Miggs was dead.   
  
"Mr. Crawford!" she gasped. "Doctor, I can't go away without saying good bye. I would hate myself for it. I have to say good bye, I just have to. You understand, don't you?"  
  
"Of course I do, Clarice. That's why we're going to the hospital tomorrow morning before we leave."  
  
"Doctor, where are we going to go?" His answer was one she anticipated.  
  
"Never ask. It spoils the surprise." He smiled.   
  
"Why can't you tell me?"  
  
"Because you will find out tomorrow morning." Clarice felt anger rising from the pit of her stomach.   
  
"Why can't I find out now?" Her tone was beginning to match her level of anger. "What if I don't WANT to go? Maybe I'm happier here!" Now she was nearly screaming. "Why do you always do this to me? Why do you have to make me wait? Is it because you think you're the superior one here? Do you delight in my torment? Do you actually LIKE to see me suffer?" She had stopped crying. Rage set in. He now knew that the fact of their destination was trivial. She was angry because she thought he liked to hurt her. How could she think such foolishness? Worse still, how could he ALLOW her to think it? "And how do I know that you're going to let me see Mr. Crawford? You're probably going to lock me in a room and keep me there until I -"   
  
He held up a hand. "No more of this," he said calmly. She stopped. In the silence, he could hear her heaving breaths. His tone had frightened her. It was one of complete control. He DID have the upper hand. He was superior. Clarice was now very close to hyperventillating. "I will not allow you to think these untruths any longer. I will not stand for it. It will go on no more." His voice was kept at a pleasant volume, as though he were having afternoon tea. "Understood?" He shot a quick glance at her, wondering why she was so quiet. He could barely hear her breathing. His eyes returned to the road.   
  
He knew then why she was so quiet. It seemed to hit him suddenly. She truly thought he wasn't going to allow her to see Crawford. That was logical. Lecter wished to clear that up immediately. He took an exit that led to the hospital where Crawford was being kept. In so much despair, Clarice almost didn't notice the 'wrong turn' on the way to her home. Her brow wrinkled in thought. "Where are we going?" she asked very timidly. Lecter could tell that he had frightened her.   
  
"We are going to the hospital."   
  
"To see Mr. Crawford?" She was quieter than before.  
  
"Yes, my dear." He reached over with his free hand for hers. They looked at each other. Clarice hesitated as Lecter took her hand. He could see how afraid she was. "Clarice, I did not mean to frighten you in any way. You know I would never hurt you intentionally. I've told you that, and I do not lie." Clarice swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. They pulled into the hospital parking lot. "I want you to remember that." Lecter removed the key from the ignition. He sat and looked at her for a long moment. Clarice fumbled for the door. "Allow me," Lecter said as he gracefully climbed out of the car and walked around to her side. He opened the door and offered his hand. She graciously accepted it and he helped her out of the car. Her jaw dropped suddenly. "What is it, Clarice?"  
  
"How are we going to get in? I mean, he'll recognize you and we'll never get out! You'll get caught! And it's after visiting hours! We can't just -" Once again, he held up a hand.   
  
"It's alright, Clarice. I've planned for all of that. You will get in to see your Jack once more before we leave." Clarice thought she sensed irritation in Lecter's voice.  
  
"You don't mind this, do you? I feel like you don't want me to do this."  
  
"Of course I want you to do this. If I did not, I would tell you. You forget that I'm a man who speaks his mind, my dear." He smiled.   
  
"I know you would, but I just wanted to make sure." Lecter placed his arm around her waist as they entered the hospital.   
  
As they approached the nearest information desk, the clerk looked up. A young woman looked up from her papers. Lecter figured that she hadn't been on the job long. If she had, she was just a naturally friendly, pleasant person. "Hello! What can I help you with?" she asked cheerfully. Before Clarice could open her mouth, Lecter answered.  
  
"We're looking for a Mr. Jack Crawford's room. Do you happen to know where we can find him?"  
  
"Oh, yes, as a matter of fact, I do! Down this hall, take the first hall on the right, his room is second on the right." She smiled. "Oh, and just in case you're interested, the doctors have said that he's doing much better. In fact, he's due to be out Sunday morning. You know, they didn't think he was going to make it at first. It's amazing what doctors can do, isn't it?." A smile spread across Lecter's face. Clarice saw it, and trying desperately hard not to laugh, she turned away.   
  
"Yes, it most certainly is," Lecter replied. "Thank you very much for your help." Another smile from the young woman.   
  
"Anytime!" Clarice nodded and gave the woman a friendly smile. Lecter escorted Clarice down the hall and around the corner. Crawford's door was closed and Clarice was worried about intruding.   
  
"I'm sure he'd much rather you bid him farewell than not, dear."   
  
"Oh, I know, but what's he going to do when he sees you with me? He could call security! He could, oh, God knows what he could do! Why aren't you worried?! How can you not be worried?" She wondered if Crawford had heard her.   
  
Too bad if he did.   
  
"Everything will be fine, Clarice. We will not stay for a great length of time, just enough for you to say good bye. Ready?" She nodded. Lecter put his arm around her waist as he opened the door with his free hand. Clarice took a deep breath as they stepped inside. She noticed that the TV was turned to CNN. The door slammed behind them.   
  
"Mr. Crawford?"  
  
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Sorry - didn't mean to leave you guys hanging like that...okay, well, I did. Thanks for reading! I'm gong to start on chapter eight RIGHT NOW! :) 


	8. Parting

Okay..here's chapter eight. I apologize for the nasty little cliffhanger I left you with last chapter...but it was fun:) Anyway...I felt no need for a disclaimer, as you all know that these people are not mine. They never were, and they never will be. So there. c.  
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Crawford looked away from the TV as the door slammed. The room was dark and he had a little trouble making out who these people were. "Mr. Crawford?" Clarice asked again. His jaw dropped.   
  
"Clarice?" His breathing became heavier. Clarice wondered if he'd seen Lecter yet. He was wearing a dark suit and blended nicely with the walls. "Who's that?" He pointed at Lecter. Clarice opened her mouth, thinking of the best way to put this.   
  
"Um . . . well . . . ." Crawford waited anxiously for an answer. Lecter decided he didn't need to prolong the wait. After all, he and Clarice needed to leave as soon as possible.   
  
"After all those years trying to catch me, I'd think you'd be able to recognize me, Jack." Crawford's eyes widened. "Perhaps I'm asking too much of you," Lecter added passively. He continued, "Perhaps you've lost your touch, Jack." His eyes twinkled as he smiled. "I'd hate to think that, though, so I'll give you one more chance." Crawford couldn't speak. He gasped, realizing that Clarice was with this monster. Clarice had approached Jack's bed, wondering what to say and how to say it. She sighed.   
  
"Clarice, what happened? What is going on?" He spoke in an offical tone, one rarely used with Clarice. "Why are you with him? I want to know. Right now." He drew out the last two words, letting Claice know that he was serious and he wanted answers.   
  
"Well, Jack," Lecter began, "Clarice has come to a very important decision with me."  
  
"Decision? What decision? Somebody better give me some answers, and I mean now."  
  
"I've decided to go away with him," Clarice blurted.   
  
"WHAT?!" Clarice could have killed herself for putting it to him like that.   
  
"Now, Jack, we must remember to use inside voices," Lecter said mockingly. "If we can't do that, then we'll have to sit in time out." Crawford glared at Lecter. His mouth moved, but no words came out. "Having problems finding our voice, are we?"  
  
"No," Crawford spat.   
  
"Jack," Clarice began, "I-I'm sorry-I'm sorry that you had to find out like this. I didn't mean for this to happen. I came to tell you good -"  
  
"You didn't mean for this to happen? You didn't mean for this to happen?! Then why come see me?! What the he-" Crawford was cut off.  
  
"I don't know what I was thinking," Clarice said in a whisper.   
  
"Obviously not!" Crawford's tone was cold and unforgiving. It brought tears to Clarice's eyes. She reached out and took his hand.  
  
"Jack, how would you have prefered to find out? By us coming to say good bye, or turning on the TV one day to see that 'Hannibal the Cannibal' had kidnapped me? Answer honestly."  
  
"What do you think? I can't stand to see him here. With you. It makes me sick. I'll admit it. I can hardly stand to be here right now. If I didn't absolutely have to be, I'd get up and walk out right now. If I had the choice of never seeing you again or seeing you with him, I'd choose never to see you again." Clarice let out a choked sob. She let go of Crawford's hand and allowed Lecter to pull her into his arms. Crawford turned away in disgust.  
  
"Get out."   
  
"What?" asked Clarice.  
  
"Get out now and I won't say anything." She could tell how much this hurt him. She could see it in his eyes.   
  
"Thank you." Clarice walked over to his bed and he took her hand. Crawford lifted it to his lips and kissed it lightly. He sighed.  
  
"I just want you to be happy," he said with a bittersweet smile. "That's all."  
  
"I will be. I promise. I love you, Jack, and I'll never forget you. Never." She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold in the tears. Crawford kissed her hand one last time and gripped it tightly.  
  
"I love you, Clarice. If you ever need me, you know where to find me." With that, she and Lecter turned to the door. Clarice placed her hand on the knob. A sob escaped her throat and Lecter wrapped his arms around her.   
  
"Shh, don't cry," he said, escorting her out the door. Crawford heard Lecter comforting her as they walked down the hall. He listened to Lecter. He could have sworn he heard "I love you" from him.   
  
"I love you too, Clarice," Crawford whispered. "I always have. I always have." Nightmares would be with him tonight.  
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Okay. There you have it. Only a few more chapters to go. :) 


	9. Home

Lecter could see very well that Clarice was in no mood for chat. As they exited the hospital, Lecter waved good bye to the helpful clerk. Clarice was a mess. "I never thought I'd have to do something like this. I never imagined that one day have to make this kind of decision. To leave everything. Forever." While Lecter knew that she wasn't really speaking to him, he felt the need to reply.

"You know that you do not have to leave, Clarice. You have a choice." She shivered as they walked out into the cool night air. Lecter removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. She smiled.

"Thank you." He nodded and continued.

"We've been through this numerous times. I want you to take as much time as you deem necessary. I know that you've already made your decision, but I want to wait until YOU know that you are ready."

"I know I'm ready. I'm ready to go home and pack my things and leave. I want to and I'm ready." Lecter opened the car door and helped her in.

"Good." He walked to his side of the car and got in. "Anything in particular you'd like to take?" Why did he have to ask these kinds of questions? He already knew the answer. There was nothing special to her. Nothing she owned actually mattered. Why rub it in her face?

"You know the answer to that. You're just trying to prove a point." Lecter smiled at her wit.

"And what point would that be, my dear?"

"That I have no reason to stay, nothing to stay for." He was pleased.

"Do you find this to be true?" She spoke immediately.

"Very."

"Mm."

"I've know it forever. I just never really had the . . . opportunity to get away. And now I do. I'm taking advantage of it." Lecter pulled into Clarice's driveway as she checked her watch. Several hours had elapsed since their encouter at the mall. For Clarice, it felt more like a lifetime.

"Well, here we are," Lecter said, tapping on the steering wheel. Clarice nodded slowly. She realized that she'd never see Ardelia again. Lecter knew exactly what she was thinking. "You can leave a note, dear." Clarice looked silently at him. She nodded again.

"Yeah." Pat. Pat. Pat. Drops of rain fell on the windshield. Lecter glanced at them.

"Just like last time, huh?" The reference to that fateful night made Clarice sick and joyful at the same time.

"Mhm."

"We'd best hurry and get back to the hotel before the rain gets much heavier."

"Hotel? What hotel?"

"The hotel room I've rented for us tonight."

"Geez, you think of everything, don't you?" A smile was his only reply. He reached into the backseat and retrieved his dark fedora and an umbrella for Clarice. He placed the hat atop his head and handed her the umbrella.

"Wouldn't want you catching a cold, now would we? Especially since we're leaving tomorrow." He set her up for this one and she'd be a fool not to catch it. She sighed. To take advantage of it or not? Would he scold her for asking once more? Or would he commend her 'bravery'? Only one way to find out.

"By the way, Doctor, I don't remember where you said we're going."

"I don't recall saying," he said shortly. With that, he got out of the car and she promptly followed suit. The mist chilled Clarice and she was thankful that he'd given her his coat earlier. Though she could still feel the cold air through the jacket, it definately helped keep her warm as she walked to her front door. She fished her keys out of her purse and thrust one into the door. As they walked into her home, Lecter breathed in heavily. The scent of Clarice. He reveled in it. Clarice turned to him.

"Would you like something to drink?" He shook his head.

"No, I'm quite alright, thank you."

"Just give me about five minutes." Lecter looked at her quizzically.

"Five minutes to pack your whole life into a bag, my dear?" His words pierced her like an arrow to her heart. She turned away from him so he couldn't see the pained look on her face. Now she faced him once more.

"Yes. Five minutes. I guess if that's too long, I could always be done in three," she snapped. Her tone was ice.

"I meant no disrespect." She narrowed her eyes. "You know, Clarice, I can't help but notice how we've been . . . disagreeing since this evening began. Is this because you're afraid of what you could be getting yourself into, Special Agent Starling? Or is there some unknown reason for your hostility towards me?" She let out a breath.

"I don't know." A long pause. "Just let me go get my stuff. Okay?" Silence on Doctor Lecter's part. "Okay?" Clarice asked in a harsh tone.

"Perfectly fine." His voice was smooth, and she could read nothing from it. She turned to climb the stairs.

"Oh, and make yourself at home," she said, noticing that he was still standing.

"Thank you, Agent Starling." She resisted the urge to glare at him.

"Don't call me that, Doctor."

"You use my title, Agent Starling, so I show proper respect by using yours." Anger consumed her.

"But now that I've asked you to stop, it is no longer respectful. Now it is just rude." She couldn't believe how even she'd kept her voice. No tremors or shakes. He smiled. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

"I do apologize for being rude, my dear."

"I'll just be a minute," she said as though nothing had happened. Clarice turned and climbed the stairs. As she reached her room, she quickly grabbed for a bag to pack several things in. She busied herself with making a mental checklist.

Toothbrush, change of clothes, um . . . oh, gosh. Do I really want to do this? Yes. I've waited all my life for it. No second thoughts.

She subconciously reached to her ears to make sure that the ruby earrings were in their proper place. She went to her closet and wildly jerked a few garments off of their hangers, throwing them in the bag. Clarice turned to take one last look at her room. She glanced at her bed, thinking of the sleepless nights she'd spent thinking of him. No more of those. Now she'd be able to walk down a hall or . . . turn over in bed . . . and there he'd be, right beside her. That thought pleased her and she turned off the light.

Clarice took her bag and ran half-way down the stairs. Somehow, she tripped and tumbled down the rest of the way. Lecter jumped from his seat and raced to the foot of the stairs. There sat Clarice, tears in her eyes. She was trembling. With laughter. The tears ran down her face and she giggled uncontrollably. Lecter was puzzled. He offered his hand and helped her up. "Are you alright, Clarice?" She giggled.

"Yes. I'm fine. I can't believe I did that."

"Nor can I. And you're sure that you were not injured?"

"I'm sure."

"Good," he said. He looked her over, noticing a few minor scratches, but other than that determined that she was alright. With his help, she walked to the door. He opened it, letting in the sound of the rain. It had gotten a bit heavier since they'd last been outside.

"Good bye," she whispered. "Good bye."

Review this Chapter 


	10. Sleep

:) I'd just like to say thanks for the encouraging reviews. I thought this story was pretty awful...but I guess it's not! :) Thankya! Oh yeah - sorry it took me so long to get this chapter posted...I really am sorry. :)  
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"So,"Clarice asked once they were safely inside the car, "Where are we staying, exactly?"  
  
"Oh, a very nice hotel." His voice was silk.  
  
"Mm." She wondered why he couldn't have gone into more detail, but decided not to press the issue. Her train of thought was interrupted when he spoke.  
  
"You're sure you have brought everything you'll want with you?" Clarice made a mental search of her bag.  
  
"Mhm. Positive." Lecter smiled at her.  
  
"Good. I'd hate for you to leave something important behind." He glanced at her to see her reaction. There was none. Not visible to him, anyway. "You look tired, Clarice." And she did. The glow to her face was dim. It seemed to Lecter that Clarice just wished to call an end to the day; to throw her hands up and say, "I give up!", but she didn't. "You'll be able to rest when we arrive," he told her. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. Clarice couldn't accept defeat. She couldn't simply admit that she was tired and needed sleep. Her body betrayed her mind. Within five minutes, she had fallen asleep.   
  
She awoke as Lecter was picking her up and carrying her into the hotel. They had reached the lobby when she first opened her eyes. The lobby was empty. Her first reaction was to fight whoever was holding her, but she quickly remembered what was going on and found no need to object. "Just sit here, darling." He put her down in a plush chair. How comfortable it was! It was the best she'd felt all day. Lecter approached the front desk and she heard him say something about a Dr. and Mrs. Stroud.  
  
Must be our new aliases. Not bad. Wonder what my first name is.   
  
After thanking the clerk, he turned to her. "I'm going to give you the key and accompany you to our room. Then I'm going to come back and get our things." She was silent. "Is that alright?"   
  
"Yes, of course." As they stood in front of their room door, Clarice wondered what it would look like inside. Would it be as grand and luxurious as she hoped?   
  
Oh well. Guess I'll find out soon.  
  
Lecter took the card-key from his pocket and unlocked the door. He and Clarice stepped inside. It was beautiful. It was huge. It was . . . wow. Clarice's eyes grew large. "What do you think? Will it do?" She was speechless.  
  
"It's wonderful!" He knew that this was probably the fanciest place Clarice had ever stayed for pleasure. She wasn't exposed to these kinds of things. He decided that he would have to change that.   
  
"I'm going to go and get our bags. Will you be alright until I come back?"   
  
"Yes, I'm fine-I'll be fine."  
  
"There's a very comfortable bed there." He nodded toward the king-sized wonder. "You should rest. You're obviously very tired." She hesitantly sat on the bed. Lecter smiled. He walked over and kissed her gently. "I'll be back in just a moment."   
  
"Okay." Clarice waited until the door shut behind him, then she stood and began to inspect the room. It was nice, just as she'd told Lecter before. But she noticed one thing that bothered her a bit. There was only one bed. Only one. The words hit her hard.  
  
Clarice was suddenly nervous. She was sure that he'd knowingly checked them into a room with one bed. What were his intentions? She knew that he loved her and was willing to spend the rest of his life with her. She was much too tired to think anymore. Clarice removed her shoes and layed on the bed. Soon she was cold and got under the covers. She was asleep within five minutes.   
  
Lecter waited patiently as the elevator rose to the third floor. As it came to a stop, he stepped out. Though he had several bags, both his and Clarice's, he was the perfect image of grace gliding down the hall. Lecter had no problems using the card-key to get into the room. As he did, he noticed that it was strangely silent. Darkness filled the room. For an instant, his heart dropped. Clarice had left him. His pulse hastened as he reached for a lamp. Then he heard something. He froze. It comforted him more than anything could at that moment.   
  
"Hannibal," she whispered urgently.  
  
He breathed heavily. She wasn't gone. He turned on a soft lamp. She was asleep. He smiled. She was so beautiful in her sleep. She turned over to face him, sighing softly. He walked closer to the bed.   
  
"No, please! Don't leave! You can't leave me!" Clarice cried. Lecter turned to her quickly. "No! Please, no . . . ." she wailed. He sat down on the bed beside her and shook her gently.   
  
"Clarice," he said softly, "Clarice, wake up. Everything is alright." She jolted awake and grabbed at him. "Clarice?"   
  
"Hannibal!" She didn't even notice that she had used his name without permission. The sound of his name on her tounge pleased him greatly. He pulled her close and allowed her to cry into his chest. "You'd never . . . leave me, would you?" Something seemed to hit him then. This was why she was so hesitant to leave with him. This was what she was afraid of. He decided to take care of that immediately.   
  
"Clarice," he said, lifting her head, "I want to tell you something right now." His voice was soft and kind. "I would never dream of leaving you." Her eyes met his. "Not in a thousand years." Tears of joy and happiness filled her eyes. Never again would she worry. She had no reason to in the first place. "Now, get some sleep so you'll be rested for tomorrow." He kissed her and tucked her in. Then he walked to the other side of the bed where a comfortable chair sat. Lecter reclined in it and watched Clarice sleep. 


	11. Departure

Howdy and thanks to all! I appreciate the reviews. Really. I apologize that it's taken me so long to get this whole story posted (one more chapter to go!), and I appreciate your patience. :)   
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Lecter spent the whole night watching over his precious Clarice. She finally belonged to him. No, she would never fully belong to him, or anyone, for that matter. But she was his. She had surrendered to his charms and was ready to give herself fully to him. He thought about these things during the night. He had drifted to sleep several times during the night, but never fell into deep sleep.   
  
About 5:00 that morning, he began preparing for the day. As he went about his tasks, he was careful not to wake Clarice. He gathered their travel papers and changed into a different suit. It was a simple one, specially tailored for him. The jacket and trousers were a soft black fabric, while the shirt was a vibrant forest green. The colors complimented him wonderfully. He had selected a comfortable silk dress for Clarice. Its color was ocean blue, one that would look beautiful with her hair and complexion.   
  
After dressing himself and packing his things into their car, he decided he must wake her. Lecter approached the bed, not wanting to disturb her peace. He knew that she constantly faced demons in the daylight. He wished for her to have as much peace as she could. She moaned softly as he grew closer. It was about 6:00 now, and she needed to be ready for their 7:15 flight. "Clarice," he said sweetly, "Clarice, it's time for you to get up. You need to prepare for our day."   
  
"Mmm . . . please don't make me get up, I'm so tired."  
  
"I know, dear, but if you don't, I'm afraid we'll miss our flight." Her eyes opened.  
  
"Flight?" She was suddenly excited. "Where to? Somewhere in Europe?" His only reply was a smile. "Is it? Oh, Hannibal, is it?" He noticed two things immediately. She was very excited, just like a little girl. He thought it was terribly sweet to see her this happy. And she had used his name in a normal conversation. Not his title, but his name. It pleased him. He took her hand and helped her out of bed.   
  
"I've taken the liberty to select something for you to wear." He went to the closet and pulled out the dress. Noting her expression, he added, "You're most certainly not obliged to wear it, Clarice." She was silent for a moment.  
  
"No, I love it! I was just thinking about how sweet you are to do this for me; to find my clothes and everything." He smiled.   
  
"It is my pleasure." He nearly lost himself in the sweet thoughts of what numerous tomorrows would bring.   
  
"I'll just get dressed in here," Clarice said as she entered the bathroom and flicked on the light.   
  
"Of course." Lecter once again sat in the comfortable chair he'd spent the night in and waited for Clarice to dress. As he heard the door open, he stood up. She gingerly stepped out of the bathroom, as though she were suddenly self-concious. Lecter immediately inscribed her image into his memory palace. She would stay there forever. "Clarice," he breathed. She looked to the floor. "You look beautiful," he whispered. He was having a difficult time finding his voice. What was happening to him?   
  
"Thank you," she said in a tiny voice. Why was she so self-concious? She looked absolutely stunning. Perhaps it was because she'd never worn something so feminine. That must be it. It certainly was not the way she looked. It could not be. "Well, don't you think we should get going? Wouldn't want to miss that flight." He sighed contentedly.  
  
"Yes, we should." It was still dark out as they left the hotel. The happy couple departed for Florence that morning.  
  
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One more chapter! Special thanks to chameleon302, Nanci, Memor Sol Solis, Steel, and Dark Shadow for supporting my futile efforts at fanfic...hehe. I appreciate ALL of you. :) 


	12. Euphoria

Let's hear it for the last chapter! Woohoo! Thank you all SO much for sticking with me and being my inspiration. I'm so glad that I'm done...but this has only made me even MORE addicted! But I guess this is a GOOD thing to be addicted to. You get to use your imagination. Yay for imagination! Okay, here goes nothing...  
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Several years had passed since Clarice's decision. Some, such as Jack Crawford, would come to regard it as a fateful decision. No matter what it was to be called, Clarice was happy. They had lived in Florence for quite a few years now, and Clarice couldn't remember a time in her life that had been happier for her. Needless to say, the accident involving chocolate ice cream and Lecter's bright white shirt was long forgotten.  
  
Clarice remembered the nightmares. But now, that was exactly what they were: a memory. Her sleep was wonderful and peaceful. Her home was one she could only have dreamed of. It was huge, with a library and her own private study. Although she loved Lecter, he understood that she needed her time alone. She came to him when she was ready.   
  
Their lives were filled with joy and happiness. They attended parties, went to the most expensive restruants, and enjoyed the opera and symphony weekly. Lecter purchased expensive gifts for his darling Clarice. He loved to buy her things; jewelry, clothes, you name it. But one piece of jewelry was always Clarice's favorite: the diamond and ruby earrings. There was just something special about them. To her, they almost represented the beginning of this relationship. They were very special to her. Although they used the aliases of Dr. Arthur Stroud and Mrs. Carol Stroud, they always addressed each other by their real names in privacy.   
  
But one thing seemed wrong. Lecter had detected a change in his darling Clarice's behavior. He pressured her to make a doctor's appointment, and after several days of nagging, she consented. One thing she requested, however, was that she be allowed to go alone. Lecter agreed.   
  
On the day of her appointment, she left early, allowing herself time to go for a walk. Lecter became concerned when she didn't return several hours later. He was about to call her cell phone to check on her when he heard the front door open. "Clarice?" he asked as he came out of his study. She looked radiant. A smile formed at the corner of her lips, though she fought to conceal it. Lecter looked at her quizzically. "Clarice?" he said, now very curious. "Where were you?"  
  
"The doctor's office." It sounded to him as though she were trying to omit something from this truth.  
  
"After that."  
  
"I went shopping." She still was not giving him the full story, and he hoped that his patience would not fail him.  
  
"Where are your purchases?"  
  
"My car." She smiled and looked toward the floor.   
  
"Clarice," he said in a mockingly cheery voice, "What is it you're not telling me? Hm?" Her hands went to her stomach. There was no use trying to hide the smile now. His eyes lit with excitement.  
  
  
  
On November 10, Clarice gave birth to Laura Elizabeth Stroud. Clarice knew that there could never have been a father more proud of his daughter. Laura Elizabeth would come to have silky, sun-kissed auburn hair like her mother, as well as her mother's beautiful ivory complexion. The thing that Lecter seemed to be most proud of, however, was his daughter's beautiful maroon eyes. Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling gave new meaning to the phrase, "...and they lived happily ever after." But, then again, they always were a unique couple.  
  
  
  
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Okay. I told you one more chapter and I meant it. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you SO much for all of the reviews. I wouldn't have continued without your support, so thanks for letting my imagination run wild. I'm feeling so inspired that I'm starting on a new story right now! :) Allegretto Emily 


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